The Colosseum
by rougescribe
Summary: A deranged Emperor gains his entertainment through the sounds of battle that echo through the halls of his Kingdom. His people, suffering under a cruel ruler, find their relief in the daily carnage they can watch from the stands. The main attraction? Two Natives from the Southern Continent, forced to fight their lover in order to keep them both alive. Trigger Warning In Prologue.
1. Prologue

**This is an old idea that I had, but chose to never write. But after encountering quite a few 'enablers' on tumblr, I finally decided to put the Prologue out. This story WILL be updated in time, but I'll be Focusing on my stories, "Flame's Desire" and "Red Herring" first.**

 **Warning- the violence within this story CAN and WILL get dark. Please pay attention to any warnings I may post for each chapter if you want to avoid being uncomfortable. This is my try at a story MUCH darker than any others that I have written. Read at your own discretion.**

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 _Beauty can be deadly._

This was a truth that Princess Hisui learned very quickly while visiting the Faust Empire. Such visits of the state were needed to foster good relations with allied Kingdoms- and in her case, she and her entourage were desperate in their attempts for opening trade routes through Faustian Waters. All that was required was a signature: and time spent in the Emperor's Presence. As stressful as it was boring, Hisui counted down the days of lavish dinner parties and whispers being thrown behind her back hoping to return home soon. _It would all be worth it in the end_. A Mantra she told herself daily with each placid smile and formal greeting she gave, but each moment spent in Emperor Faust's presence was a chip at her soul in ways she couldn't list.

This, however, was big one: The Colosseum. Rumors and tall tales had spread through all the Kingdoms about Faust's need for battle and entertainment. Hisui hadn't taken them seriously or realized the full truth until she had been invited to one of his many, daily, displays. Sitting comfortable in the shade as cheers from the audience roared into her ears- the Princess thought she would vomit at any moment.

Death and Glory. **A man's game**. She'd heard it many times before. The shouts and battle cries of men in armor or tattered clothes resounded through the arena.

Sweltering heat caused waves to rise above the sand and with each win, more blood was spilled as the crowd went wild. **Entertainment**. That's what they called it. "Not all who lose die," Faust had told her, lips thinned in a cruel smirk. "As long as the crowd is happy- even they can live to fight another day. Merciful, is it not? - _but only if they're lucky_."

She prayed his fighters held more luck than any God could grant. - but her silent wish was unheard for many. The bodies piled up. One after the other- a stench rose into the air enough to make her gag and hide behind a floral handkerchief (given by one of of her many guards.) Their looks of discomfort helped ease her own mind. She wasn't the only one disgusted by the vile display before them. _It would all be worth it in the end-_ She told herself once more, hiding her grimace when the Emperor turned his soulless gaze on her.

 _It would all be worth it_ …

Relief washed over her when the bodies were cleared away. An end to the depravity and senseless fighting. Hisui could not escape her chair any fast enough, but was stopped by Faust's hand, raised to bar her path, while his smirk turned to a frown. "Leaving so soon?" He asked, brows furrowing, "We've yet to see the finale."

"I thought the clean up meant…" She paused, searching for a diplomatic word she could use: abomination was certainly not a good way to form ties between their Kingdoms, but the phrasing she used was pulled through her teeth. "- that the proceedings was over?"

It felt like a betrayal towards her own self to speak those words, but Faust took no notice. (Or relished in her sickness.) Ushering her to take her seat, he motioned back towards the field, a strange glint of glee marking his features. "Not at all! I've saved the best for last!"

Hisui was positive she didn't wish to see any further, but slid back into her chair regardless, stomach churning as the final two contestants stepped onto the field. Shock ran up her spine when a man and a woman, dressed in the tattered remains of tribes often ignored in the Southern Continent, emerged from their cells. Their skin gleamed even from the distance, glittering in small pinpricks that the Princess Recognized to be scales.

"You have Draconians?!" She breathed, awe filtering through despite herself. They were gorgeous. The male with the strangest pink in his hair and red speckling the sides of his face, arms and torso- blending with bronze skin and muscles clearly made to hold power; and the female- toned just as well, glittering in golden yellow that matched her long, tangled hair.

"They killed twenty of my men before being secured." Faust admitted, chuckling at the sight of them. "Oh, but the moment the woman fell- we were able to control the man with… limited ease." She wanted to question what he meant by this, but the Emperor chose to give no further details while his eyes were trained on the couple. "They were truly made for my Colosseum."

The leather of their clothes looked old, distantly faded in old colors- even from her seat, Hisui could see the telltale marks of old cuts healed on their skin. Scars crisscrossing their arms, legs and stomach- some even on his face. She had never seen a Draconian up close- most never survived travelling to the southern continents to get the chance. Her curiosity almost consumed disgust, eyes flickering over the pair in study. It was as the drums beat out the signal, that Hisui realized the truth. A large gash across the girl's stomach, **the ugliest of them all** \- and the tortured expressions on their faces. She didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to stop to even consider the possibility….

The matching tattoos on their shoulders shattered her denial and a sudden sob escaped while the Princess felt the bile in her own gut rise to her throat.

"These two are- you took a husband and wife!"

The way Faust's grin widened to that of gleeful mania was the only answer she needed before the Princess of Fiore left her seat, uttering a string of apologies. Swiftly she rushed off to empty her lunch into the nearest bucket- as far away from the sounds of fighting and pain as she could muster.

Just what had they done to that woman to make her male companion surrender? Hisui could put it all together quicker than her heart could handle, and she would never get the memory of that scar out of her mind for the rest of her life.

It would stay there. Even in her nightmares.


	2. Chapter 1

**I had intended for Flame's Desire and Red Herring to be updated first, but I've been having a lot of issues with writer's block at the moment and am currently having my Beta and another friend of mine help me with the issues I'm having with the other two. In the mean time, I had inspiration for this- so here's the next bit!**

 **Same warning as is in the first chapter applies.**

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Large gashes engraved in the stone wall spoke a story no one would ever hear: One Hundred and Eighty-Two Suns since the cage had become his home. A small amount of light came through the smallest of grated windows just above the stone outcropping he used as a bed. It was enough to illuminate the dank cell, but never enough to give him the strength he required.

No, that strength only came when the Soldiers arrived, dragging his tired, sore body from it's chains and into the area of sand, enclosed and full of spectators, screaming for blood. (Why? Why did they wish to see him harmed? To see him harm and damage others? Death was a natural process in all life, why gain entertainment from it?) Those moments, out in the sun, was like the equivalent of a man dying of thirst finally finding a well full of crystal, clear water.

It gave life. Energy. The power he needed.

But it was never enough. It would never be enough.

One Hundred and Eighty-Two Suns since he'd held enough strength to topple over twenty men with ease while searing the land with his rage.

One Hundred and Eighty-Two Suns since _he had seen_ _ **her**_ bright and happy: an excited, expecting Mother.

Dark eyes surveyed the room. Staring through the darkness barely illuminated by the sliver of sunlight and the torches that littered the small hall. His own cell was small- with just enough room for basic human needs. A bucket for his bodily functions, an empty tray covered in the crumbs of his meager meal, the stone bed with only a small rag to use for cover. Adjacent, other cells lined the hall- all matching, all the same.

Most empty or smelling of the old reek of dead flesh. The corpses were long gone, but no one cared to truly clean after anyone down there. Beside him, whimpering softly as she moved to finish her meal, was the reason he hadn't given up hope.

" _Lucinia…_ " His voice, raw and guttural- damaged from the screams and roars he had given in every battle since the day they had come. It hurt to speak, but her name in the tongue of their home was a healing balm for his aching heart. " _Lucinia.- Sia kornari?_ "

No verbal response. Just the slow shifting of her head as matted, golden tresses, full of knots and dirt, fell from her shoulders, blocking the brown eyes that searched for him in the dim light. Another morsel met her chapped lips and she shuddered. Meals had been hard for her. During the first days of their capture, she had refused to eat at all.

She still avoided speaking to him, a revelation that made his tangled throat tighten in agony. They had lost so much, but even now, with her so close- even she felt farther and farther away. The bruises on her body served as ugly reminders of their plight and a growing sense of impotence weighed him down. .

He did that. Every day they served to entertain the world, and to keep her alive, he had to cause her pain. Had to mark her skin in the very bruises that made him retch.

" _Petranas_?" A low plead. _Talk to me._ Please. Say something- **anything.** Body aches struck like knives as he moved to the end of his cell- towards the spaces of the bars where broad muscles quivered with every movement. His own damage, caused by her- numbed his senses, but they were bearable. He could bare them. He'd bare the loss of his arms if he had to.

A pained huff. Her next response and to his small delight, she moved to greet him. Thin fingers, malnourished and weak, reached between the space between them, meeting his own calloused hands: the closest to soft comfort she could give. No words followed. Just a soft sigh, a whine and a gentle flex that told him all he needed to know.

 _I'm here. I haven't left you._

He relaxed. Sorrow had filled her during the times she had first woken, angry sobs escaping when her hands met the healing wound on her stomach. The broken screams she emitted had lasted for days and the beings of this place feared she would starve herself. She almost did. Until they had threatened to take his life before her eyes. - but did she blame him? It was a worry that gnawed into his mind with every rising moon.

Her fingers twitched and he moved closer, pressing his forehead against the bars- eyes searching hers. She looked frail, terrifyingly so- though he felt his own constitution wasn't better. With the allowance given, scarred lips moved to kiss the cut knuckles of her fingers and he grumbled his frustration.

Lucinia- or Lucy, as many called her, finally pulled the tiniest of smiles, but her eyes were empty- devoid of the former light they once had back home. It was progress. It was something.

" _Yth re persvek nomeno ulnaus_." He said, heart clenching she when nodded. A shared promise between the two of them. _**We are in this together.**_

The moment of solace was interrupted by the loud clanging of metal doors and locks being unlatched. Her body shifted, flinching, in an attempt to back away and immerse herself into the shadows of her cell. His hand tightened on hers, keeping her still. Not yet. He wasn't ready to let her go. Not now that he finally had her so close! Eyes narrowed and his gaze turned to the other end of the hall, stinging at the sudden light that filtered in through the opened doors. Rage settled into his veins like an old friend.

It was Faust. Oh, he knew him. Knew him as well as any man would recognize a putrid snake needing to be skinned.

"Oh-ho, don't get up on MY account: Natsu and Lucy." The man exclaimed as he proceeded towards their cells. Golden red robes billowed behind him and he chuckled. The very use of their shortened names made the Draconian's lips pull back as he snarled.

He hated the sound of them falling off **that devil's** lips.

Natsu's gaze held fast on the so-called Emperor of this land, filled with a hate he had never felt before. Fingers clenched tightly against Lucy's- loosening when she gasped. An apologetic frown was all he could give in the short moments they had before Faust reached the front of their sells, craggy knuckles gripping to the bars while he laughed, eyes gleaming in mirth. What was so funny? The draconian felt his anger would only increase if he ever learned.

"You two have been so fantastic, lately-" The leader complimented, leaning his crooked nose through the bars to sneer at them. "Exceptionally so. I was almost convinced you wanted to kill each other that time. Marvelous! - but do take care of your little woman, Natsu. I can't have her unconscious and being healed by my doctors for another month, again."

The reply given was a low hiss, lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth as Natsu snarled. " _Choke shafaer dout ooble vur shit shafaer coi!_ " He knew full well what Faust was saying- understood the language enough to get the gist, but his own tongue rolled from his lips far easier and he refused to give the old man anything else.

Lucy, fingers clinging to his like a vice, whimpered, free hand moving to circle her stomach from the memory. Eyes clenching closed, Natsu smelt the salt before a single tear fell down her cheeks. He pulled her hand closer to him, holding it close as if it could, somehow provide the protection he desperately wanted to give her. His words and actions only served to amuse Faust more as his laughter bounced off the walls.

"None of that now, boy- you know I can't understand you when you use that foul tongue. Try again?" Silence followed and the Emperor's smile spread across his face, stretching his wrinkles until the mania was all that could be seen. "I thought not. It WAS the girl who spoke our language, wasn't it? How long has it been since we've heard her dulcet tones, hrmm? Perhaps my men could help sing it out of her for you…"

A few chuckles from the guards followed as they eyed the blonde salaciously. Natsu's entire world turned red and his body moved quick like a viper. Bouncing off his balls of his feet, hand shooting forth to thrash into the King's very nose while his shoulders slammed into the bars. The metal clang as his full weight crushed against the iron made him wince and see stars.

He'd be bruised later: Natsu didn't care. The joint's of his arm screamed, but he held fast, eyes narrowed and pupils shrinking to mere slits.

He had felt the connection, seconds before the Royal guard had pulled the man away- not quick enough to completely save him, but just enough to stave off a broken nose. Natsu's frustration rumbled through him before the butt of a sword struck into his abdomen, forcing the air from his lungs as he slid to his knees, gasping.

Lucy had struck him there that day, during their fight. The muscles were still tender. Ears ringing, he heard her cry, voice uttering one, single word, "S-stop!" Her first in months and it wasn't even in their language. He felt sick, but knew it wasn't meant for him.

"That little savage almost broke my nose!" Faust groaned, hand over his face as his eyes clouded in anger. Stepping back to let his men circle him, the one who had struck Natsu slowly re-sheathed his blade and moved back into place. "So help me, boy if I can't show my face at court, not ONLY will I send her to the Barracks - I'll keep her there until she's nothing but a used rag-doll!"

"Lord Faust, I think that is MORE than enough grandstanding, thank you." The voice that broke through the resounding echoes of Faust's shouts settled into the room like a knife. Her voice was far softer than the men, but sharp and full of disdain. Natsu's gaze, blurred from pain, tilted to see the one thing he had failed to miss since the Emperor had entered.

A woman of green hair, coupled with only two guards, standing by the entry stairs. Her gaze was frozen on the Emperor and the disgust she held could not be hidden. Though she was adorned in gold jewelry and silks, her expression held an empathy Natsu had believed no longer existed. It wasn't enough to stop the warning growl that emitted through his throat, however, body moving slowly back towards the corner. Back to Lucy.

Empathy or not. She could be just like the others and if he had to fight through the bars to protect Lucinia, then he would.

"I came to see your prizes, Emperor Faust." The woman began, gently stepping passed his men while she surveyed the room. "I believe I've seen more than enough of your treatment of them. Are you truly angry at him responding to being baited by you?"

The tension in the room was a strange one. As she moved closer, Natsu could see the tentative way in which she stepped- her own guards staying between her and Faust's men. She held an air of command, but was still nervous, unsure despite her proud gaze. The Emperor, suddenly up-righting himself to a more stable position, seemed to have forgotten her existence until that very moment, eyebrows knitting together as he stood tall, much taller than she.

She did not intimidate him, but something about her made his eyes less manic and far more… cunning. Narrowing white brows, he waved towards his men signalling their movement and drew back his lips.

"A savage deserves no better than the treatment they get, Princess Hisui." He replied coolly, casting one last look towards his fighting treasures. "Either way, I tire of this. You wanted to see them? Have a look! Fulfill your curiosity, but I expect you back to discuss our alliance within the hour."

"Of course, your Grace." She replied demurely, body tilting forward elegantly as Faust, rubbing his sore nose, moved past- his armored men following quietly behind. The echoes of the chamber doors shutting, but staying unlocked, resounded from the walls as silence followed. The green-haired woman called Hisui stared into the cells, her bottom lip being drawn under her teeth in uncertainty.

"He doesn't even give you clean water, does he?" She asked aloud, but began to walk along the length of the cells, obviously expecting no answer. "Calling you savages while holding you like a barbarian. It's sickening!"

The outburst was a surprise, but did her no favors. Natsu saw the differences. He could tell she wasn't like the others he had seen, but that meant nothing. Was she acting? Did she wish for something? She had called them prizes before Faust had left. How could he trust such words? The speed of her steps increased and the Princess turned to stand in the very spot Faust had recently vacated. Fingers delicately touching the bars while she gazed upon him and Lucy- whose fingers had searched his out once more, holding tightly.

He didn't trust her. He didn't trust anything, but the slender fingers of the woman he loved, resting beside him through their joined bars. Hisui stayed silently, lifting one hand to motion for her two guards to move back from her, leaving her vulnerable to an attack if the Draconian male chose to strike. He wouldn't. Not unless he had to.

Striking a woman who had done him no harm was unnecessary.

"This won't mean much to you, I gather." She stated, kneeling down to face them at an even level, "- but I'm sorry. I saw your battle earlier as well as noticed the…" Landing on the ugly, pink and puckered scar Lucy covered with one hand, Hisui flinched and looked away, "- pain you two have suffered."

"Please, if it's not too much to ask…."

Another low growl formed into his throat, disliking the way her words made Lucy stiffen beside him-. Ask for what?

"- could I possibly find some way to help you?"

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 **The language being used is A "draconian dialect" used for Dungeons and Dragons right now. There will be no translations as I want to experiment with having them translated in the story itself rather than creating a language key. Also, some words are "surprises" to be learned for later.**

 **Don't forget, if you'd like to see updates on my stories sooner, previews of my current WIP and such, feel free to follow me on tumblr over at Rougescribe!**


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